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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23109280">Toast</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/djinnj/pseuds/djinnj'>djinnj</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 15:15:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>346</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23109280</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/djinnj/pseuds/djinnj</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Frivolous nonsense. This applies both to the fic and the actions within the fic.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Toast</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aziraphale found the habit of elevenses to be very pleasant and was charmed when a name for it was coined. As such, today he was considering a fresh loaf of milk bread from the excellent Korean pastry shop down the road.</p><p>He looked at the loaf and hefted the knife.* A telephone call regarding a book auction had come in whilst he was filling the teapot and disrupted his timing by several minutes. The tea would soon be perfectly steeped and the ideal temperature and he had not yet even sliced his toast-to-be.</p><p>He pulled at his lower lip; the toaster would take several minutes. The shop was open but no customers had yet to cross the threshold. With a little nudge, a silent mental request, the bread knife burst into glorious flame.** Two swift cuts and Aziraphale delicately stacked his perfectly golden fragrant toast on his saucer plate.*** The knife extinguished itself, and he wiped it and put it back in its block with a gratified pat.</p><p>Elevenses was really such a delightful tradition.</p><p> </p><p>*He had purchased his bread knife from an up-and-coming fellow in 1893. The serrated blade was cutting edge at the time and served him exceptionally well ever since.</p><p>**Bread knives do not usually burst into flames of course, but after prolonged exposure to ethereal personalities who have certain expectations of edged tools and a certain force of miraculous energy behind those expectations, well, you try disappointing an angel and see how you like it.</p><p>***The plate that was also a saucer is not something he would have thought to purchase for his own pleasure, but a certain sunglasses wearing associate had given it to him. The intent had almost certainly been to poke some fun and wind Aziraphale up (<em>A saucer <b>is</b> a plate! It's a plate plate!</em>), especially given the extremely elaborate pattern of roses and gold leaf. However, Aziraphale was both honestly delighted with the gift and fully aware that nothing was less satisfactory to Crowley than having his teasing met with effusive gratitude and a very glaring missing-of-the-point.</p>
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